Echoes in the Dungeon
by Don'tStopMeNow19
Summary: On a hunt against an unknown foe Dean is attacked and trapped in his own subconscious. Castiel goes in after him. Set sometime in season 6 (no major spoilers). This is going to be Destiel eventually so M/M. Rated M for later chapters, there will be quite a bit of violence and sex. I'll give warnings at the beginning of each individual chapter for triggers.
1. Chapter 1

No spoilers as long as you know how Castiel is. Later chapters will be very M due to violence and sexy times. I'm not sure how regularly I'll be updating this so sorry if there are some gaps. Hope you like it!

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Dean woke up and peeled his eyes open; it felt like they'd been shut for years. He kept them carefully squinted against what he perceived to be a harsh white light. As his irises adjusted to the brightness Dean opened his eyes more and got his first real glimpse of his surroundings. Turning his head around he observed crude stone walls and the only light was coming from torches held on the wall, not that his eyes had were accustomed he realized that it was actually quite dim. He was in a large circular room with hallways branching off in every direction, looking up he realized that there were actually several floors to the room which could be accessed by a series of steep stone steps that didn't have so much as a rail protecting whoever might be using them.

Dean had no idea where he was but one thing was certain, it was immense. He moved to get up but found that his limbs felt stiff and unused and he was lying in the fetal position on the bare ground. He carefully stretched out all his muscles joints popping and that wonderful pain of extending a muscle beyond its everyday use. Time to figure out what the fuck was going on.

If Dean was anything it was a man of action. Nothing could be solved from him just sitting on the ground staring at a wall. He got up and checked himself for weapons. Damn, whatever bastards had kidnapped him had done a damn good job of unarming him. If he ever found those sons of bitches he was going to make them pay. Even the small blade he kept in his sock was gone.

So he was unarmed, it wasn't the end of the world. He'd had worse odds, like when the world had actually been ending. He got up dusted himself off and removed the closest torch from a wall in a pinch he could definitely use it to defend himself not to mention help him see down one of the many corridors that convened on the room which dean had decided was probably a tower, much like the ones he'd seen in books about medieval castles.

"Sam!" Dean called into the unresponsive expanse "Cas!" Though his voice echoed impressively off the walls there was no way of knowing how large the structure that he was being held captive in was and it seemed highly unlikely that anyone would be able to hear him, much less Sam or Cas. He'd simply have to find the others.

He remembered that he, Sam, and Cas had been hunting together. It was a mysterious case involving several people succumbing to comas for no apparent reason. The brothers had never encountered anything like it before and called for backup. Unfortunately according to Cas there were several creatures it could be and without more information there was no way of knowing.

He began to walk down the closest hallway holding the torch aloft. On either side the walls were packed with a myriad of different doors. There were doors made of metal, wood, stone and they came in every size, shape and color. There were torches at regular intervals along the hallway that seemed to go on into infinity. Well shit, one of these doors had to be the way out. As far as Dean could tell he was on the bottom floor of the structure. He shrugged his shoulder and opened the first door on his right, he had to start somewhere.

A rush of wind blew out the torch in Dean's hand. It was cold, damn cold. The ground was covered in snow and there were pine trees as far as the eye could see. Yes! Exit on the first try, now if only he could find out where the hell he was. Something seemed off about his surroundings somehow, like a small voice at the back of his mind saying _wrong_ over and over again.

Clutching the extinguished torch like a baseball bat he slowly advanced, muscles tense and ready. His eyes were scanning the tree line for movement when he noticed footprints leading to his left. Bending down he noticed they were from a barefoot man. The guy had balls walking around barefoot in the dead of winter, at this thought the voice in Dean's head screamed _wrong!_

Shaking off the feeling dean began to follow the tracks into the forest. He'd gone about 400 feet when he noticed something that put his senses on red alert, the human footprints abruptly changed to dog paw prints.

Fuck! There wasn't a scrap of silver on him. Goddamn those bastards! They could've at least left his knife. Feeling exposed as hell he trudged on. Maybe he could get the jump on it and interrogate it. He was after all fairly confident in his fighting abilities.

As he followed the paw prints through the snow he came upon a clearing, there in the middle was a ferocious looking grey wolf. At the sound of his feet crunching through the snow it turned, its eyes fixed on his.

Dean felt a weight in his hand, cool metal pressed against his palm. He'd recognize the feel anywhere, his gun. He didn't know how it happened but right now it didn't matter. He raised the muzzle and aimed it straight at the monster's head.

His index finger pressed lightly on the trigger but just as he was about to pull something made him stop. There was something in its eyes. Resignation, it wasn't trying to attack. Come to think of it both the human and the wolf tracks had been widely spaced suggesting it had been running. He realized suddenly that it had been running from him.

Dean lowered the barrel slightly. The wolf form shuddered the fur along its body began to retreat. The limbs grew longer and fuller and the digits extended to elegant fingertips. Everything about the creature was morphing in front of him, everything except the eyes. They stayed the same.

It was a young woman. She sat naked in the snow shivering, her breath heaving from the exertion of running away from Dean. She bowed her head and Dean could hear her softly sobbing relief clear in the way she held her body. Dean moved forward preparing to take off his jacket and hand it to her.

"Stop! Son don't move any closer!" a deep voice called out in earnest.


	2. Chapter 2

But that was impossible. Then it all came rushing back to him. He knew why everything felt so wrong. When he'd gone hunting with Sam and Cas it was sunny with not a speck of snow on the ground.

No, this hunt was one he'd been on with only his dad when he was 16. Still young in the hunter's game. Turning around Dean saw his father.

He looked good, well compared to the last time Dean had seen him. He was still haggard and haunted by his wife's death but he also looked young and determined. His gun was trained coolly on the naked woman who was trying to cover herself with her hands.

"Please! I never meant to hurt anyone I swear" Tears were rolling down her face as she pleaded. "He was trying to hurt me! I had no other choice." At this the she lowered her head into her hands and cried her entire body shuddering with the force of her grief.

"It's a monster, son, a skinwalker. We can't let her get away she'll just kill again it's in her nature." John's voice was ice. "She's not human Dean."

His father's words washed over him and his body seemed to move without his intent. He raised the pistol in his hand and aimed. A shot rang out through the forest and birds leapt from the trees fleeing the frightful sound. Even as a boy of 16 Dean's aim was impeccable. The woman lay prone on the ground her legs and arms thrown at unnatural angles. Blood pooled out of the hole in her forehead corrupting the environment around her staining the white snow in gore. Her halo of crimson spread and it seemed to Dean as if it was reaching out for him.

"Good job Dean" John Winchester said as he patted his son on the shoulder. "Come on we should burn the body."

The words seemed to snap Dean out of his stupor and he ran, as fast as he could back the way he'd come. Whether he was running from the blood or himself he couldn't tell.

He raced along following his footprints through the snow back to the door that was still ajar. As soon as he saw it Dean stopped. There was no wall. The door stood surrounded by nothing but the forest, as if this situation couldn't get any more fucked up. Shrugging off the inexplicable the hunter crossed the threshold back into the grim hallway he had come from and closed the door.

Dean sat on the floor of the hallway resting his head in his hands. What the fuck had just happened. He had just relived one of his worst childhood memories. Where ever he was it was clear that it was supernatural.

Dean sat on the ground for a while contemplating what to do. If he went through another door he'd run the risk of living through another horrible memory but he couldn't just sit here, who knew what had happened to Cas and Sam.

His mind made up he steeled his nerves and moved to the door on his left. He'd find Sam and Cas even if he had to look through every door in this goddamned place. The door his hand now rested on was average size and made of wood but was blackened to a crisp. He had a bad feeling about this.

Dean took a deep breath and turned the knob. There was a light rustling noise behind him. Dean released his grip and spun around recognizing the noise anywhere.

"Cas!" the relief Dean felt at the sight of the angel was palpable.

"Hello Dean" Cas' voice, as always, did not betray his emotions. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to find you."

"Where the hell are we?"

"We're deep in your mind Dean. The creature you encountered is what you would call the Bogeyman. It traps humans in their own subconscious where they torture themselves living through their darkest thoughts."

"That's great Cas, now zap me outta here."

"It won't be that easy Dean" Cas sighed. "We're in the deepest part of your mind if I tried to drag you out it could harm you. To leave you have to kill the creature."

"Okay, so how do we gank the son of a bitch?" Dean's spirits were lifting, if all he had to do to leave was kill something he was golden.

"It is a creature of possession and is weakest in physical form if we can kill it inside your mind it will be expelled and forced to take shape."

"Wait; hold on if it possesses people how come my tattoo didn't stop it?"

"The Bogeyman takes possession of a mind and unfortunately your tattoo only wards against possession of the body."

"Ok so how do we find it?" Dean said looking forward to dealing some damage to the creature that trapped him here.

"It feeds off fear and will no doubt be lurking the thoughts and memories from which you feel the most fear."

"So you're saying I have to seek out my worst fears to kill this guy? That's just peachy Cas." Dean strode over to the charred door once more preparing himself for what lay beyond.

"Dean, I'm sorry but I won't be able to enter any of the doors. I'm already further inside your mind than is safe if I delve any deeper I fear I may harm you." Cas said apologetically.

"Of course you can't. Just wait for me here then I guess. How will I recognize this guy anyway?"

"He customarily appears as a figure in a black cloak although he has the ability to change form. As long as he doesn't expect you to be hunting him he should be easily spotted."

Dean gripped the doorknob tightly knowing what he would see on the other side.

"Here goes nothing." He pushed the door open violently and walked inside.


End file.
